


I Never Meant For It To Come To This

by RandomWordsAndStormyDays



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: A Happy Ending, Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, I promise there is some fluff, It's not all angst though, Multiple Endings, Not Canon Compliant, Rare Pairings, Smut, and a lot of Feelings, and a sad ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-12 16:35:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18450437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RandomWordsAndStormyDays/pseuds/RandomWordsAndStormyDays
Summary: The gun shoved into his ribs burns like hot coals and the wound on his arm from the feral ghoul stings enough for him to flinch, but nothing hurts more than the betrayal he can read in her blue eyes.“I swear to you, Haylen. I never meant for it to come to this.” Deacon’s words are pleading. For a second he thinks that maybe his desperation has gotten through to her. Instead he watches the hurt switch to anger. Her hand is pressed so tightly against him that he feels the moment when her finger slides down to pull the trigger. He registers the sound of gunfire and then he’s plunged into darkness.---Deacon follows the vault dweller into the Brotherhood hoping to convince her to join the Railroad instead. His plan goes awry when Nora is removed from his squad and he's left to navigate Recon Squad Gladius by himself.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Remonia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Remonia/gifts).



> I couldn't get the idea of Deacon/Haylen out of my head after reading the fic [What Comes After](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11089074) by JayceCarter. So I decided to write this story, what was supposed to be a short 4,000 word drabble for one of my favorite [Tumblr users](https://vaniloa.tumblr.com) became this monstrosity.
> 
> This was beta'd by the lovely [AJ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AJ_Vincent) and [Goblin](http://grandmother-goblin.tumblr.com/), whom without many things would be vastly different.

Deacon watches impatiently as his mark chats with the Brotherhood Paladin across the street. He can barely hear their conversation, but what he can pick up worries him. Apparently, the vault dweller he had scoped out as a potential Railroad recruit is considering the tin can’s offer to join the Brotherhood.  
   
He suppresses a smile when his target blatantly checks out the Soldier in power armor and can’t help the snicker that escapes lips at the red that crosses the Paladin’s face. He thinks that maybe it’s not the Brotherhood ideals that are making her decision, but instead the man in uniform stuttering out regulatory rules.

  
He’s not at all surprised when his mark agrees to join the Brotherhood’s ranks and he begins to formulate a plan. If he has to join the Brotherhood of Bigots too, so be it. A shame, really. Orange isn’t his color.  
   
He waits two days, giving the vault dweller time to settle into her role as a member of Recon Squad Gladius, before making his move. It’s a method he’s done a dozen times before but that doesn’t make it any less painful when the knife cuts through his flesh. He grunts against the pain and uses his own blood to dishevel himself. He grips the knife in his now wet fingers and stumbles into the police station’s front area.  
   
Before he begins walking up the steps his mark rushes outside, her shotgun drawn and aimed at his head. “Please,” he whimpers out the word, half a ruse to get her sympathy and half genuine pain, “please help me.” He lets his legs fumble beneath him and grits his teeth when the concrete digs into his knees.  
   
His vision is swimming slightly and he realizes that he might have dug the knife in too deep. Before he can regret his own carelessness, the newest Brotherhood Initiate reaches down and lifts him up. He curses out when her arm brushes over the wound on his side.  
   
The doors open and he’s not at all surprised to see all eyes on him. It’s an uncomfortable feeling, but in order for his plan to work he can’t fade into the shadows like he would prefer. The vault dweller leads him to a dirty mattress on the ground and he groans when he notices the blood dripping from him onto the floor.  
   
He idly wonders why no one calls for the medic he knows is here when she pops into his vision. He expects to see a Wasteland-toughened Brotherhood Soldier. Instead, he gets a concerned and gentle looking woman.  
   
She raises her hand and lifts the side of his, now dirty, white shirt. “It looks like he’s got a knife wound, other than that everything else seems superficial.” He finally sits down on the mattress and nearly sighs in relief at the pressure it take off his side. The woman turns to his mark. “Go get the med-kit, it should still be in the room with Rhys. I’ll start cleaning and dressing.” The vault dweller nods and then takes off, quickly following instructions.  
   
He’s less than helpful as the medic begins to strip him. “Woah there, I’m not that easy. Gotta buy me dinner first.”  
   
The barest hint of a smile tugs at her lips. “Listen bud, I’ve dealt with uncooperative patients before, I’ve got no problem drugging you.” Her fingers brush over the injury and he sucks in a sharp breath. “Besides, unless you want to bleed out, you’d do best to let me do my job.”  
   
She’s quick and sharp, not at all what he gathered from the way she looks. He lets her gently ease him into a completely horizontal position and use a pair of medical scissors to cut away his clothing. She’s running a cloth covered in purified water over his side when the vault dweller returns with the med-kit.  
   
She readies a stimpack and then glances over at him. “This is going to sting.” He nods his understanding and she injects him.  
   
He closes his eyes against the pain as his muscle and skin begins to regrow and repair at close to impossible speeds. His mouth goes dry nearly instantaneously and the pounding of a headache begins to form. He has no idea what makes stimpacks work as fast and as well as they do, but they tend to drain the energy from whoever uses them. He avoids them if he can.  
   
When he finally manages to open his eyes he’s delighted to see the woman handing him the rest of the can of purified water. She helps him back into a sitting position and then he sucks the water down greedily. When he’s finished he sees his mark and the Paladin looking at him and speaking in hushed tones.  
   
“How do you feel?” He jerks his gaze back to the woman who just patched him up.  
   
He shrugs his shoulders and smiles at her. “I no longer feel like I’m half a step from an early grave, although I never quite recovered from that Behemoth attack a few years ago.” He flashes her a look of concern. “If you haven’t heard the warnings already, stay out of the Commons.”  
   
The lie slips easily off of his tongue and has the desired effect. Her eyes widen in shock and she looks over him, like she might be able to see his injury. “How’d you survive?”  
   
“Well, let’s just say I’m a lot better at running than I am at knife fights.”  
   
She lets out a quiet laugh at that and then turns towards the rest of her squad. “It looks like he’s gonna live, I recommend he stays here for the night though.” She’s beginning to pull away when he speaks up.  
   
“You guys are Brotherhood, right?” The room goes silent and three pairs of eyes turn to him. He shuffles, playing the part of a nervous man. “I was actually hoping to join you.”  
   
\---

Recon Squad Gladius, renamed “Collection Squad Gladius” after the Prydwen arrives in the Commonwealth, was proving to be harder to crack than he originally suspected. He’s spent the last four weeks gathering information from his unsuspecting team members and doesn’t have much to show for it.  
   
Knight Rhys is basically a brick wall. Nothing Deacon says or does has ever been enough the break though the rough exterior that he presents. He appears to take a personal aversion to every member of the Commonwealth that joins the Brotherhood. It seems as if he’ll never warm up to anyone who didn’t come with them from the Capital Wasteland.  
   
Paladin Danse is Brotherhood, through-and-through. He eats, sleeps, and shits regulations and doctrine. Deacon made the mistake once of suggesting that maybe some rules were meant to be broken and got put on guard shift for a full 24 hours. However, the stick wedged firmly up his ass might have begun to shrink, due in no small part to his mark.  
   
The vault dweller, who he learns early on is named Nora Cooper and who is promoted almost immediately to the rank of Knight, is exactly the kind of person he wants to recruit. She’s kind, willing to help literally anything with – or without – a pulse, to the utter annoyance of both Knight Rhys and Paladin Danse, and she’s good in a fire fight. The only problem is that she seems to really like everything about the Brotherhood, apart from their racism. It probably doesn’t help that she’s also nearly half in love with Paladin Danse, but he doesn’t blame her for that.  
   
Then there’s Scribe Haylen. If she wasn’t a member of the Brotherhood, he would recruit her in a heartbeat. She’s smart, funny, and just as kind on the inside as she seems from the outside. She’s a well versed medic and not too bad with a handgun.  
   
He knows that she’s his best bet at getting into the rest of the team’s good graces but before he can try and figure out his own idea for how to use her, she lays the perfect plan right in front of him.  
   
Deacon stares down his scope at the ferals littering the square. He’s been an official member of the Brotherhood for almost a month and they still have him pulling feral killing duty outside the police station. He’s still an Initiate, since his sponsor isn’t in love with him, and that irritates him more than the fact that he’s on clean-up duty.  
   
The one good thing is that Haylen comes with him on almost every mission now, since the first time he went alone he nearly wound up getting his throat torn out by one of the zombie bastards. She’s kneeling next to him as he steadies his breathing and she places one of her hands on his shoulder.  
   
He suppresses a shiver as the heat of her hand warms him through the thick material of his jumpsuit. A quick tightening of her fingers has him squeezing the trigger. His shot tears through the throat of one feral and embeds itself in the chest of another. They both drop, but the second ghoul isn’t yet dead.  
   
“Double points,” he says as he pulls back the bolt on the side of his sniper and loads another round into the firing chamber.  
   
“Doesn’t count,” Haylen argues. “Technically you only killed one of them.”  
   
They had started the game to keep them entertained on the seemingly endless clean-up missions Paladin Danse assigns him to. Each creature killed counts as ten points. If a shot took out multiple at once the score double, tripled, etc. depending on how many targets dropped.  
   
“It’s no longer a threat, it can’t even stand,” he counters.  
   
“You only get ten points, Deacon. No more arguing.” He huffs out a frustrated sigh before he fires off one more round. Another feral drops. Her hand falls from his shoulder when he sits up from his sniping position.  
   
He’s about to launch into one of his tall tales when he notices that she might have moved her hand, but she didn’t pull back. Her face is mere inches from his. Only a second before it happens does he realize what she is about to do. Her lips touch his hesitantly, not at all showing the confidence that he had seen from the Scribe in the last month, and he recalls something he learned his first week with the squad.  
   
_He’s leaning against the wall, trying very hard not to get caught eavesdropping, as Nora and Haylen talk in the other room. He can barely hear their voices as they drift through a small hole and he tilts his body forward, just enough that he can hear them better.  
   
Nora mumbles something about Rhys hating her and even a fool would be able to hear the disappointment and bitterness in her voice when Haylen replies, “Rhys bleeds Brotherhood. It’s all he cares about. It’s his family, it’s his whole life. If anything else comes into the picture and gets in the way, he shoves it aside.”  
   
He desperately wants Nora to ask about it and he smiles when she mimics the question he has is his own head. “Is there something between the two of you?” He feels bad for the Scribe when she describes the harsh rejection from the Knight but files the information away for later. The conversation falls apart soon after that and he makes a hasty retreat to avoid getting caught snooping.  
   
He almost feels guilty when she tells him the same story a few days later.  
_   
Filling the void left by a broken heart is the perfect way to get the rest of the squad to like him. So instead of yanking back, like his body demands that he does, he presses forward and reaches up to slide his hand onto the back of her neck. He grips her hair gently and tilts his head to deepen the kiss. Haylen gasps softly and he slides his tongue along her lower lip once before pulling back.  
   
Her eyes are still closed when he pulls his hand away from her. Once the contact is gone her eyes flutter open and she smiles at him. “I’m really happy you didn’t run.” If her cheeks weren’t already red from the kiss they would be after her confession. “I was scared to try, in case you turned me down.”  
   
Her honesty causes nausea to roll inside of him and he shoves it aside. He cups her face and drags a thumb across her cheek. “I was scared to try because I thought you still had feelings for Rhys.” The lie tastes like ashes in his mouth, he really hates personal recon.  
   
She grins at him but just as happiness starts to rise in her eyes it disappears. “We can’t tell the others.”  
   
He lets his hand drop and goes to pull away from her, pretending to be upset. “I’ve never had a woman regret a kiss so quick before.”  
   
She reaches out and grabs his hand before he can tuck it into his side. “No, I don’t regret this, but the Brotherhood has rules. If they find out we’re together they’ll separate us. You can’t have partners in the field together- one of them has to stay on the Prydwen.”  
   
That puts a dent in his plans. If he can’t tell the squad they’re together how is he supposed to get on their good side? It’s too late to go back though. He lets a reassuring smile slide over his features before pressing a kiss to her cheek. “We just won’t tell them then.”  
   
Two weeks later a glowing report from Scribe Haylen has him being promoted to Knight and his gut twists when he sees how happy the news makes her. The pain in his gut increases when Knight Rhys punches him. Deacon wonders if maybe Rhys is jealous, even if he doesn’t realize it.  
   
Three weeks after that, Nora tells Elder Maxson that her and Danse are together and his mark is removed from his squad. The dent in his plan isn’t noticeable after that since the rest of it turns to dust in his hands.  
   
\---

Deacon spends the time following Nora’s departure waiting on instructions from HQ and gathering more intel about the Brotherhood and its key players. He does a decent job of keeping them all fooled about his past, everyone gets the same story:  Diamond City born and raised, left once he turned 19 to join the Minutemen. He says he left when he wound up in the wrong place at the wrong time and witnessed his entire squad get killed. That story gets him sympathy from Haylen and even Danse, but Rhys still watches him like a hawk, tracking his every move.  
   
His fake relationship cover is nearly blown a few days after Nora has left the police station. He’s standing next to a mailbox about to draw the dead drop sign when Knight Rhys appears out of nowhere. He quickly shoves the chalk into his pocket before turning to the shorter man.  
   
“Hey there Rhysie-boy, what can I do you for?” He plays it casual, pulling a cigarette out and lighting it in one quick motion. The Knight eyes the mailbox like it holds the key to Deacon’s strange mannerisms. He’s hoping that the man doesn’t go searching; Rhys doesn’t need to find the note about Nora or the one that asks what his next mission is- that would be very bad for Deacon’s health and safety. Luckily for him the man simply frowns at it before looking back at him.  
   
“What are you doing out here? This is not part of our area of operation.”

He wonders if Rhys has ever talked like a normal person or if the way he speaks is how it’s always been. He flicks the ashes of his smoke towards the other Knight and shrugs his shoulders. “I needed to stretch my legs, take in the scenery.” Rhys crosses his arms over his chest and glares at him.  
   
“You are not authorized to make that sort of decision. You need approval from Paladin Danse.”  
   
“Did you get approval before following me?” That question sets Rhys off and he starts to fume. As he talks about his role as Senior Knight, which Deacon thinks is a completely made-up title, his face gets more and more red. The shorter man’s anger is apparent as he berates Deacon for his lack of discipline and character. His temper shoots higher when Deacon rolls his eyes. Just as he drops his cigarette onto the floor a hand curls into the front of his uniform and shoves him hard into the wall. Deacon’s breath is knocked out of him and he has to suck in air greedily before he can focus.

“I don’t know what your fucking game is, but I’ll figure you out.”

Deacon sorts through the information catalog that he has in his brain before settling on a card that might help him. “I think you’re just jealous.”  
   
Rhys’ hand loosens slightly and he sneers. “What the hell could possibly make you think that I’m jealous of you?”  
   
Deacon sneers right back. “How about the fact that it took you nearly a year to make the rank of Knight, and I got it in less than six weeks based off of one recommendation from Scribe Haylen.” He sees a fire light at his words and he presses on. “And speaking of Haylen, I think you’re pissed off that she’s spending so much time with me. You can’t turn a girl down and then go all macho-man when she sets her sights on someone else.”  
   
“If you two are involved in a relationship then one of you must be removed from this squad.”  
   
Deacon realizes his mistake but instead of panicking he forces out a laugh. “No one said anything about a relationship, buddy. Sounds like you’re just pissed off that you had a chance and you blew it under some bullshit Brotherhood righteousness.”  
   
Pain flashes across his face and the hand keeping him against the wall releases him. He falls to the ground and holds a hand over his injury. When he looks up, Rhys is staring at him with pure hatred in his eyes. He has just enough speed about him to get mostly out of the way of the next punch so that it catches the side of his jaw instead of his nose. The force of it still sends him sprawling across the asphalt.  
   
He’s preparing against another attack when a voice rings out. “What the hell is going on?” Knight Rhys’ back goes ramrod straight at the words and he suddenly looks very guilty. Scribe Haylen rushes forward, sidestepping Rhys so she can get to him. “Oh my god, Deacon? What happened?”  
   
He doesn’t answer, just turns over to face his fellow Knight. She catches on and he watches her hand clench into a fist. “Knight Rhys, under what possible circumstances did you think that it would be acceptable to injure another member of the Brotherhood?”  
   
The man hasn’t moved much, looking a lot like a ragstag caught in a spotlight. Before he can even begin to try and answer her she continues on. “I know it wasn’t sparing since that can only be done in authorized areas. This wasn’t an attack from someone else because I can see the blood on your knuckles.” She gets closer to him and her voices drips with more venom the closer she gets. “I’m willing to bet a hell of a lot of caps that he said something you didn’t like and you reacted without thinking. Am I correct?”  
   
The way she stands up for him is amazing. Deacon can’t remember the last time someone had cared enough about him to face off with someone in his defense. She manages to look more intimidating than he’s ever seen and it sets off some sort of alarm in his head. The one he reserves for when he realizes that he’s maybe gotten too close to a mark.  
   
He ignores the warning bells in favor of watching the Scribe tear into Rhys like it’s her job. She sends him back to the police station with a warning about his temper before turning back to him. He only realizes that he’s still on the ground when she drops down next to him and lifts his chin with one of her hands.  
   
“Does it hurt too badly?” She asks, her voice has gone soft and he recognizes it as the one she reserves for him when they’re in private. He shakes his head and allows her to run some cloth over his face to remove the blood. “What did you say to him? You know he doesn’t like you.”  
   
He grins at her and leans in to press a gentle kiss to her lips. “I didn’t say anything I haven’t said to him a million times before. There’s no need to worry. I think he’s just more stressed out than usual.”  
   
She huffs at his answer and helps him to his feet. “That doesn’t give him the right to hurt you.”  
   
He pulls her into a hug and rests his cheek against the top of her head. “I know you’re worried but I promise I can take care of myself. Besides, if you step in like that again he might realize you’re more than just my medic.” She smiles against his collarbone before pulling away.

“Rhys isn’t smart enough to figure that out.”  
   
He sends her away under after that but lets her know that he’ll be back soon. As soon as she’s gone he rips the dead drop out of the trashcan and changes his note. Instead of asking what to do next, he tells them that he shouldn’t stay where he is.  
   
\---

He stares down at the dead drop in his hands, refusing to believe the words he’s reading. Even though Nora is no longer a part of Collection Squad Gladius, Desdemona is instructing him to maintain his cover and continue working his way through the Brotherhood ranks. This is the opposite of what he wants.  
   
Not only is his mark gone, but the hole he started to dig when he agreed to see Haylen in secret is now a canyon. It took three weeks for HQ to get a response back to him and in that time he came to a startling realization.  
   
He actually likes Scribe Haylen.  
   
He knew right away that she was a good person, someone he would want to join him when he goes back to the Railroad, her kindness made her very likable, but that was a different kind of like then what he felt now.  
   
It’s one thing to know what traits and qualities a person could bring to your secret organization, it’s another thing to know exactly what they taste like under your tongue. And Deacon knows both.  
   
He knew he was screwed when he gave in to Haylen’s advances a week ago.  
   
_He’s on his way to meet Paladin Danse for his next mission assignment when the closet door next to him opens and he’s yanked inside. He reaches out to shove the person away when he notices Haylen grinning at him. He starts to speak but she slaps a hand over his mouth. “Be quiet,” she whispers into the air, “you don’t want anyone to hear us.”  
   
She pulls her hand away and he leans in close to her. “What are you doing?” Instead of giving him a verbal response she slides her fingers under his shirt and dips them into his waistband.  
   
In the two months they had been together he had been very careful to make sure that they were never alone or safe enough to go further than a few heated kisses. Apparently, she had decided that enough was enough. If he was being honest, he had been having trouble keeping her at arm’s length too.  
   
He might be an emotional disaster after the UP Deathclaws and Barbara, but he is still as human as everyone else. And Haylen is beautiful.  
   
Her fingers are cold against his rapidly warming skin and his grip on her arm tightens when her hand slips lower into his jeans. He’s torn between wanting to let her do whatever she wants and running for the hills. He somehow manages to find a happy medium and simply wraps his fingers around her wrist, stopping her progress.  
   
She frowns at him and the sight makes his heart clench. “Do you not want me?” He hates the way her voice sounds, so broken. So he lets an easy smile cross over his face as he removes her hand from his pants. She stills looks upset when he pulls her in for a kiss. He wants to say that only she melts into it, but they both do. He feels her relax as he slips his tongue into her mouth and he relishes the groan he gets in response.  
   
He pulls back just enough to get his mouth over to her ear. He takes the lobe between his teeth and tugs, causing a mewl to spill from her. “Of course I want you, sweetheart, but I want to take care of you first.” Her breath hitches at his words and he drops her arm so that he can get his hands on her clothes.  
   
There isn’t a lot of space in the closet but he manages to get her pants loosened and undone as he suckles kisses onto her neck. She writhes beneath his ministrations and he wonders how long it’s been since she’s been touched. From the way she squirms, he guesses it’s been some time. It’s been a while for him as well. Her sounds have him straining in his jeans.  
   
He steps back to give himself some room and he drops to his knees. Her eyes follow him and he can see the way her body trembles as he slides a hand up her leg. He’s about to pull off the last article of clothing between him and her when she reaches for his sunglasses. He’s faster than her, however, and he manages to catch her hand just as her fingers close arounds the arm of the shades.  
   
“Don’t.” The word comes out much softer than he expects it to, more of a plea than a demand, and her face softens. She doesn’t respond, just drops her hand back to her side.  
   
He pushes away his discomfort and trails his thumb over the cotton of her underwear, sending a shiver over her body. He smiles when her fingers clench onto the bench she’s leaning against and that gives him the motivation to finally drag her panties down over her legs. They slide easily and Deacon has to steady his breathing when he sees just how wet she is.  
   
By the time she comes, nearly crushing his head between her thighs, Deacon doesn’t know how he’ll live without tasting her again.  
_   
Recalling that memory sends a shiver across his body and he swallows hard. As much as he’s coming to enjoy spending time with Haylen, he knows that it can’t and won’t last. He’s not ready to be in a real relationship, doesn’t know if he ever will be. Besides, their entire relationship, or at least his half of it, is built entirely on lies. Even if he could handle something real he knows that in order to do that he would have to tell the truth, and that sickens him.  
   
He burns the dead drop and doesn’t bother to send a reply. He makes his way back into the police station and is surprised to see Scribe Haylen packing a go-bag.  
   
“What’s going on?” She lifts her head and smiles at him.  
   
“Good, you’re here. We’ve got a mission that’s going to take us away from base for a bit. Go pack your bag and meet me out here. Paladin Danse is going to give us our brief once you’re done.”  
   
She resumes packing spare ammo and medical supplies as Deacon heads to his room. It doesn’t take him much time at all to get ready and before long he finds himself in the middle of his first mission brief that doesn’t involve killing ferals.  
   
They’re being sent to investigate a Brotherhood distress signal coming from a satellite array, the problem: it’s overrun with Super Mutants. It’s his first real mission since he joined and Deacon knows that Paladin Danse will be keeping an eye on him to make sure that he can hold his weight. He’s ready for the challenge.  
   
The four of them leave right after breakfast and Deacon’s stomach plummets when he sees the Vertibird waiting for them. He’s only been on one and that was when he was forced to meet Elder Maxson to accept his promotion in person. It was not a pleasant experience and he had to hold back from vomiting the entire time they were in the air.  
   
Haylen’s hand finds his and she gives him a light squeeze before letting go. She knows all about his aversion to heights and he’s surprised to find that he finds genuine comfort in her care. A warning light goes off in his head, but he ignores it just as he did the first one.  
   
Their flight to the array would have been pleasant if not for the rolling of Deacon’s breakfast as it fights against him from inside. Rhys seems to take a special kind of pleasure from his discomfort and spends most of the flight attempting to jostle Deacon as much as possible. He has half a mind to puke on the man, but Haylen’s gentle look keeps him from actually going through with that plan.  
   
Before long the Vertibird lands and Deacon practically jumps off of it. “Land! Precious and wonderful land. How I have missed thee.” He can hear Haylen laughing behind him and that spurs him on more. He flops down onto the grass and spreads out his arms. “Never again shall I take for granted the irradiated dirt that keeps me safe.” Danse chides him for his behavior but the wink he gets from Haylen makes whatever punishment he gets for his childish acts worth it.  
   
It’s a long and tough battle between the four of them and the Super Mutants, and Deacon actually finds himself disappointed when the Soldier they came to rescue is found dead. He’s silently grateful that he doesn’t appear to have been eaten though. He’s not really upset about the results of their mission until he sees Haylen’s reaction.  
   
She’s gripping her medical bag tight in her hands like she might attempt to bring the Soldier back from the dead anyways. Her expression, which is usually playful and happy, is full of sadness. He slides over to her and rests his hand on her shoulder, a casual picture of one Soldier comforting the other. “There’s nothing you could have done, Haylen. He was dead before we even got here. This isn’t your fault.”  
   
Words that he means to bring her comfort instead cause tears to spring into her eyes. He pulls her away from the other two members of the squad into one of the more clean structures. “Haylen, sweetheart, talk to me.” Her tears have spilled over and are steadily streaming down her cheeks. He reaches up and rubs them away.  
   
“I knew him.” He frowns at her confession and rubs his palm over her back. “His name was Scribe Faris, he was one of my mentors back in the Capitol. He’s the reason I became a medic.” She hiccups the words out between tears and Deacon can feel his heart shatter. He pulls her into a hug and lets her cry against him. He’s running a hand through her hair, trying to soothe her, when Paladin Danse walks into the room.  
   
He freezes, caught, and Haylen pulls back. “What’s wrong?” She pulls away from him and turns around, she also freezes when she catches sight of her Commanding Officer.  
   
“Scribe Haylen, Knight Deacon,” he says their names slowly, like he’s putting together the pieces of a puzzle. “Are you two... involved?”  
   
Deacon nearly laughs at the question. His arm is still wrapped around her waist and Haylen is still pressed into his side. You’d have to be blind or stupid to come to any other conclusion. Before he can insult the man Haylen pulls away from him and starts to ramble.  
   
“Sir, I can explain. I know the rules regarding Brotherhood Soldiers if they become involved, and I know that-”  
   
“There is no need to explain. I understand.” He cuts her off and Haylen’s mouth opens and closes a few times before she manages to get ahold of herself.  
   
“What do you mean?”  
   
Danse enters the room fully and closes the door behind him. “Nora and I decided that following the rules of the Brotherhood were important to us, and she concluded that her skills would be better put to use assisting the Prydwen, so she left.” He looks over the two of them before continuing. “I haven’t seen her in weeks, so I understand why the two of you would want to keep your relationship a secret. If I could go back I would try and convince her of the same thing.”  
   
Deacon and Haylen are both shocked at his admission. “But, Sir, you follow the rules so carefully.”  
   
The Paladin shrugs, the motion magnified by his power armor. “It’s hard being away from the people you love. Which is why I hope you believe me when I say that I won’t report the two of you to my higher ups.”  
   
Deacon isn’t sure how he feels about that admission, but he can read it in Danse’s eyes that he’s seeing him in a new light, getting caught might be the best thing that’s happened to him so far.  
   
“Knight Rhys, however, would in an instant, so you two must still be careful. Understood?” Deacon and Haylen both nod their understandings. Danse offers up one of his rare smiles before leaving them alone.  
   
Haylen moves back over to him and reaches up to pull him down for a quick kiss. “Thank you. For letting me cry. I needed to get all that out.” He tugs her in to seal their lips together again.  
   
“I’d do anything for you.” Deacon wonders if his statement is a lie or not.  
   
\---

Over the next two months Danse, Rhys, Haylen, and Deacon spent their time equally divided between collecting and retrieving technology, and turning the police station into a functioning pit-stop for any passing Brotherhood Soldiers. They spend two weeks on missions for the Prydwen and then the get one week to recover and rest, it’s a decent schedule.  
   
He’s proud of the development but the entire situation is a double edged sword. The more he helps the Brotherhood the worse off the Railroad is, but if he doesn’t help them then his cover is blown and he fails at his job. It’s a tricky situation to be in.  
   
But it’s not the only one. Deacon is beginning to suspect that his fake relationship with Haylen is no longer fake. She’s making him feel things that he hasn’t felt in years and he spent too long ignoring the warning messages that his brain had tried to send him.  
   
He doesn’t avoid her touch anymore, in fact he’s begun to seek it out. He’s stopped lying to her about little things that don’t matter, he tells her the truth- or as much of it as he really can. He goes out of his way to find things to make her laugh and even brings her back books when he manages to find them intact. He thinks that maybe she might not hate him if he tells her the truth, but he’s too much of a coward to run the risk of both losing her and blowing his cover.  
   
Rhys’ attitude towards him has only gotten worse although he hasn’t attacked Deacon physically since the first time. It’s clear to Deacon that the man is jealous, likely for both of the reasons that he had brought to the other Knight’s attention. He is the epitome of ‘you never know what you have until it’s gone’ and Deacon can’t help the perverse sort of pleasure he gets every time he sees Rhys’ face pinched in pain whenever he talks to or casually touches Haylen.  
   
He’s genuinely surprised by how much of a shine Paladin Danse has taken to him. Ever since he caught Deacon and Haylen in the satellite array he’s been more patient with him. He wonders if maybe it’s because the Paladin has a soft spot for the Scribe and knowing that Deacon is making her happy pacifies his annoyance. The man is too deeply ingrained with Brotherhood doctrine for Deacon to actually ever like him, but he does appreciate being taken off the bullshit duties that he was on prior to their failed attempt to rescue Scribe Faris.  
   
Overall, Deacon is surprised to find that he’s well on his way to being happy. Of course, that’s when everything goes to shit.  
   
He’s replacing Rhys’ ragstag jerky with mirelurk meat when Paladin Danse calls the squad into an emergency meeting. They’re on their one week of recovery so Deacon is annoyed to see the Paladin dressed in his power armor holding what he has learned is a mission brief. He leans on the wall next to Rhys who pulls back to put distance between them.  
   
Haylen trails in last, still wearing her off-duty clothes, and he can’t help but stare at the stretch of skin that he can see peeking out from between her shirt and the top of her pants. Danse clears his throat and he manages to drag his gaze away.  
   
“We have received a time-sensitive mission from the Prydwen. I know this is our downtime but this is not a mission we can ignore.” The way he speaks has dread twisting in Deacon’s stomach. “We have discovered the location of a Railroad safehouse which is currently harboring upwards of seven synths.” The floor drops out from him but he doesn’t react. “We are being tasked with clearing the safehouse and removing the synths from the Commonwealth.”  
   
The way he says ‘removing’ leaves no space for any other interpretation other than ‘killing’. Deacon suppresses a shudder and begins to plot exactly how he’s going to get word to HQ that their safehouse is no longer safe. He knows that even if he asks that he won’t be told where they’re going until they’re already in the air so he barely has any information to pass along. But he has to try.  
   
They’re given two hours to prepare and Deacon rushes to get a message out, he hopes that it makes it on time.  
   
His stomach is still in knots when they gear up and climb onto the Vertibird. Haylen seems to have noticed his mood because she shuffles over to him. “Are you okay?” She tries to be quiet but the whipping of the blades means that she has to shout. Luckily it seems as if the rest of the squad isn’t paying attention.  
   
“I’m alright, we’ve just never gone after real people before.”  
   
She frowns and leans in closer. “Are you talking about the synths?”  
   
He shakes his head and ducks in so he can talk directly into her ear. “The Railroad agents, I don’t feel comfortable killing them. They’re only doing what they think is right. Why should they die for that? But sure, why not the synths? I get that the Brotherhood thinks they’re abominations, but I’ve never shared that opinion.” He knows he can be honest about that because she feels the same, whether she’s ever said it out loud before or not.  
   
She pulls back and he can see the fear in her eyes when she looks over to see if Rhys or Danse have heard him. The panic disappears when she sees that they’re not paying any attention at all. She scoots over again so that she can get to his ear. “I know, I feel the same, but orders are orders, and the Railroad has attacked our squads before. Elder Maxson wants to go on the offensive.”  
   
He doesn’t bother responding, nothing he says will change his situation.  
   
When they land he feels like he might be sick, everyone assumes it’s from the flight, so no one asks him any questions. Deacon looks over at the building that Danse is pointing out as their target and once he see it he actually does turn and puke. He’s pointing right at Ticon.  
   
Haylen is instantly at his side asking if he’s okay but he waves her off and tells her that it’s just sickness from the flight. He wipes his mouth and has to restrain himself from sprinting away and warning the agents he knows are inside. Instead he trails behind the group hoping beyond hope that his warnings made it in time.  
   
He knows that it has when they walk into the lowest floor of the building and he sees that the elevator is shut down. He pretends to help the squad search for a terminal that he knows isn’t there. When they start to climb it isn’t the height that makes his heart pound.  
   
The higher they climb up the stairs the more restrictive and itchy his Brotherhood jumper feels. He has no idea what safehouses know that he’s undercover and he isn’t sure if he’s going to get shot at when they make it to the top. He’s not dumb enough to think that the building is empty, but he’s hopeful enough to wonder if the agents and synths have hid instead of trying to ambush them.  
   
They’re approaching the third to last floor when a grenade drops down in front of the team and he doesn’t even hesitate to rip Haylen back and roll them into cover. The explosion goes off and then the gunfire starts. He keeps a protective stance in front of Haylen but purposefully makes sure that his shots go wide. He refuses to be responsible for more deaths.  
   
Both Rhys and Danse have fallen back into a position that allows them to maintain the best cover they can and for some reason he hopes that they aren’t injured. He pushes the feeling aside and rushes forward but not before telling Haylen to stay where she is. He doesn’t give her any time to argue.  
   
He’s ducking gunfire and dodging grenades for what feels like hours and manages to get enough distance between him and the other Soldiers. Once he’s sure he’s out of their hearing range he stands up and holds up his weapon. “Doyouhaveageigercounter?” He says the words so quickly that he’s not sure if he’s understood at all.  
   
He recognizes High Rise when the man stands up to look at him. “Deacon? Man, what the fuck?” He’s about to explain when a sharp pain laces through his arm and he yelps. A terrified looking woman, who he assumes is a synth, is looking between him and High Rise.  
   
“Why-uh, isn’t he- what’s going on?” Deacon ignores her in favor of putting pressure on his fresh gunshot wound and he listens idly as High Rise explains that he’s undercover before the man makes his way over to Deacon.  
   
“You can’t have them see you help me. You’ll blow my cover.”  
   
“Fuck the cover, Deacon, you have to help me get these guys out of here.” His mind is swimming with pain but he manages to come up with some form of plan. He stands up and begins to rush back from the man.  
   
“I can’t blow this cover HR, tell your people to keep firing near me. I’ll think of something to distract them. Try and get everyone to the elevator.” He stumbles back into his squad’s presence and grits is teeth as his arm throbs.  
   
Danse notices him first and looks at him with anger. “Knight, where did you go?”  
   
“Thought I saw one of those bastards on the upper floor, wanted to get to her before she took us all out. Scared her off but not before I took a bullet.” The Paladin seems to notice his injury for the first time and lays down cover fire so that he can make it to Haylen.  
   
She’s noticeable pissed and her face only softens slightly when she sees him bleeding all over the place. She’s not gentle when she yanks him over and pulls the zipper of his uniform down enough to slide the jumper over to expose his wound. The whole time she’s digging inside him for the bullet she’s berating him.  
   
“How could you be so stupid? You know you shouldn’t rush forward by yourself, what the hell did you think was going to happen? You’re lucky you’re not dead.” He’s too busy trying not to crack a tooth as he grinds his molars together to respond but she doesn’t even give him a second to reply. “I swear there’s something wrong with you today, you’ve been a mess since you found out our mission. I know you don’t want to hurt people, but you’re just going to have to suck it up until we’re safe.”  
   
She jabs a stimpack into his arm and he flinches back and she apologizes when she realizes how rough she’s being. As she gets his clothes back on she calms. “I’m sorry, I was just so worried. I guess this is why partners can’t be in the field together, I couldn’t seem to focus until I knew you were safe.”  
   
He risks a quick kiss to her cheek. “I’m not going anywhere.” She smiles at him before handing him back his weapon.  
   
“Let’s get this over with.”  
   
He’s not 100% sure how he manages to do it but somehow he distracts the team long enough for High Rise to clear the building. The last load of synths is entering the elevator when his squad pushes up to the top floor. Danse and Rhys are furious and try to break the elevator mechanics to stop their escape, Deacon just watches them. Before too long they realize that their efforts are useless and the Paladin orders them to the first floor to try and cut them off.  
   
Deacon is faster than anyone else and he slams down onto the final set of stairs just as the group of synths and agents begins to disappear out the front door. They let out a scream and start to run when he fires a shot into the wall. He can hear the power armor pounding down the stairs behind him as he fires, missing again.  
   
He moves forward in order to get a better angle to see the group as it disappears and he feels his heart stutter when one of the figures trips and falls down. He hears Rhys yelling at him to shoot but his finger freezes. The man turns to face him and Deacon sees that he looks young. At this distance he’s too close to fake a shot and he knows that Rhys and Danse are close enough to see him now.  
   
He hesitates long enough that the synth gets his feet back under him and starts to sprint for cover, the man disappears around the corner just as Rhys fires a shot. When he misses the synth the Knight whips around to face him. “What the fuck was that? You just let that _thing_ get away?” Deacon still has the laser pistol raised and something in him starts to break. “You complete and absolute moron! You’re a disgrace to the Brotherhood. Not only that but someone like you doesn’t deserve Haylen.”  
   
That snaps him out of it and before he can think he twists his weapon and uses it to backhand Rhys across the face. The surprise of the attack has the man stumbling to the ground and Deacon’s resolve crumbles. He drops the pistol and climbs on top of Rhys before bringing his fist down to crash against the other man’s nose. “You think I don’t fucking know that?” He screams as he brings his other fist down. “You think I don’t spend every day wondering what the fuck she sees in me?”  
   
The honesty in his words startles him but not enough to stop him from bringing his hand down to Rhys’ throat and starting to squeeze. Before he can do any real damage he’s ripped off of the other Knight and pushed away. The force of Danse’s power armor as it nearly crushes his ribs is enough to shock him back into reality.  
   
He turns to run, bug out of the entire situation, but Haylen catches him by the elbow before he can even take a step. He refuses to look her in the eye and instead stares at where she’s touching him. “Did you mean what you said?”  
   
He’s spared from having to reply because Danse starts to shout for her help. He stands stock still, completely unmoving, as Haylen and Danse clean up and help Rhys. He can hear Rhys shouting, “I knew it, I knew you two were together. Fucking send him away, back to the damn Prydwen!” He quiets down as Haylen begins to set his broken nose and Danse must say something to his victim because he isn’t assaulted when they once more board the vertibird.  
   
In fact, not a single word is spoken between the four of them the entire ride back to the police station. When they land Deacon idles around outside while Rhys is escorted inside and Danse talks to Haylen. They’re speaking in hushed tones but he isn’t even trying to listen.  
   
Instead he keeps thinking about how he’s ruined everything. They can’t send him to the Prydwen, that’ll be a disaster for his mission, so he’ll have to leave. That means leaving Haylen and that hurts him more than he thought it would. There used to only be one crack that ran through his heart, the one that he got when he lost Barbara. Another one begins to form as he imagines his life without Haylen.  
   
He’s torn from his depressive thoughts by Paladin Danse. The man is still in his power armor and Deacon has to crane his neck up to make eye contact. He’s too worn down to read the emotions in Danse’s eyes.  
   
“Knight Deacon, your behavior this evening was unacceptable. You will be punished for your actions.” Deacon drops his head and kicks at the rocks near his feet. “However, for now I’m giving both you and Scribe Haylen the rest of the night off. You two clearly have some things to discuss and I think that that conversation should not be held here where prying ears could listen in.” He places a heavy hand on Deacon’s uninjured shoulder and squeezes once then leaves without waiting for a response.  
   
Haylen is waiting for him with two go-bags already packed by the time he manages to drag himself inside. She doesn’t say anything, just hands him his pack and grabs his hand. The little gesture of affection has him blushing and he doesn’t protest when she tugs him outside. “Do you want to walk or take the Vertibird?”  
   
“Walk.” She waves over to the pilot, signaling that he’s no longer needed, and begins to lead him down the street. He feels numb as they travel, he knows that he has to tell her the truth. He _wants_ to tell her the truth. That should scare him but he can’t find any one emotion to cling to.  
   
She leads him to an abandoned settlement, the sign above the one lone building reads ‘Oberland Station’. There’s a small spattering of crops surrounded by a sad looking fence and a single water pump. She ignores all of that and leads him up the stairs which groan and creak under their weight. When he gets to the top he’s surprised to see a bed, dresser, shelf, and storage container all squished inside the room. She leads him over and motions for him to sit on the bed and he complies. She lights up a lamp and closes the door before taking the spot next to him.  
   
He’s expecting her to ask him questions and he’s fully prepared to answer them honestly, but instead she reaches over, curls a hand into his jumpsuit, and yanks him into a heated kiss. The surprise causes him to let out a muffled yelp but pretty soon he gets with the program. He’s never seen her act like this before, while they had been intimate plenty of times since the first she had never responded so desperately.  
   
Her hand uncurls from his shirt and wraps around his shoulder. It’s probably so that she can keep him pulled in tight, but he doesn’t need much encouragement to stay where he is. He’s not even sure if a mini nuke would be enough to get him to move away from her. If she wasn’t pushing him away yet he was going to enjoy what he could before she had a chance to realize her mistake.  
   
He groans when she digs the nails of her other hand into the back of his neck and nips at his lower lip at the same time. He wraps one arm around her waist and gets the other under her so that he can pull her into his lap. She moans and angles her hips so that she can grind down against his growing erection. The sparks of arousal that her actions send through him cause him to shiver.  
   
It isn’t long before he starts to strip her out of her field clothes. She had taken off her headpiece, backpack, and gloves, but there are still far too many layers between the two of them, in his opinion. He starts by undoing the straps of her ammo pouches, a task that she makes entirely too difficult when she continues to grind against him. Even through her uniform he can feel her heat and it makes him want. The pouches drop to the floor and he doesn’t even care where they land, he simply moves on to the next piece of clothing.  
   
By the time she’s down to just her undershirt and pants he’s nearly delirious with pleasure. Which is why he’s so surprised when she speaks. “Deacon, please, I need you.” She hasn’t spoken since they left the police station but her voice is breathy and full of want. He captures her lips in another kiss as a response and brings his hand up to cup her breast through her shirt. When he runs his thumb over the pebbling nipple she leans into the touch.  
   
Her reaction encourages him and he leans down, using his tongue to tease her through the cotton of her top. Her hands come up to wrap around his head and he bites lightly when her nails scrape against him. She whimpers when his hand reaches up under her shirt to play with the other one. She grinds down harshly and his mind goes white-hot with pleasure.  
   
He drops his hand from under her shirt and uses it to scoot her back so she’s no longer pressed against his length and she whines at the loss of contact. “Careful, sweetheart, you keep doing that and this’ll be over before it starts.” She laughs at that, but there’s no malice in her tone. He lifts his head to look up at her and pauses for just a moment to take her in. He doesn’t know how she’ll react once he tells her everything and he wants to memorize the happiness on her face in case he never sees it again.  
   
She watches him stare at her and slowly she raises her hand from the back of his neck. The hand he has on her hip tightens when her fingers curl around the edge of his sunglasses. This time he doesn’t stop her when she begins to lift them up. Even through his haze of pleasure something akin to terror forms inside his chest and he closes his eyes and swallows. He hears the soft clack when she places his shades on the side table but he still doesn’t look at her. She slides one hand up his neck until she’s cupping his face.  
   
“Look at me.” She drops a kiss to his still closed eyelid. “I need to see you.” Another kiss, this time to his cheek. She’s treating him with such kindness that he can feel his body began to tremble. He can’t bring himself to open his eyes, to tear back that final layer of protection. She notices his problem and slides off his lap. He’s just beginning to think that she’s given up on him when he feels her push back gently on his shoulder.  
   
He lets her maneuver him onto the bed and he thinks about the first time he met her, when she laid him back onto the mattress in order to patch him up. Only this time instead of healing a physical wound she begins to heal an emotional one.  
   
“Today you said that you weren’t sure what I could possibly see in you.” As she talks she also climbs onto the bed. He can feel the shift in the mattress and her hands when they come to rest on his chest and hip. “And I was surprised. Because no one has ever made me feel like you make me feel.”  
   
She leans over his body and he can feel her breath spill over his lips. He leans up to try and catch her in a kiss but she pulls back before he can. “I could sit here and list out everything you’ve done for me, but all you should care about is that I love you.” His eyes snap open at her words but she has already leaned in to kiss him, giving him an opportunity to close them again if he wants to.  
   
He can’t believe what’s she’s just said, but something deep inside of him shatters and he lets go. The tension that he had been holding up to this point sags out of him and he loses himself in the feel of her mouth against his. The change in his demeanor is physically noticeable and Haylen must pick up on it because she smiles into their kiss and nips at his lip.  
   
Deacon reaches up with one hand to tangle it in her hair and uses the other to slide her body back over his. His erection, which had flagged considerably during their interaction, was quickly hardening again as she uses her deft fingers to tease at him through the fabric of his clothes. As soon as she’s steady enough to support herself Deacon slides his hand back under her shirt to once more play at the sensitive skin of her breasts.  
   
Without breaking away from him she begins to slide the zipper of the god-awful orange Brotherhood uniform down his chest and as soon as she gets it far enough she pulls back to look at him. This time he doesn’t shy away, he meets her gaze, unhindered, for this first time. Her cheeks are flushed red with arousal, her hair is askew from her signature ponytail, but nothing is more beautiful to him than the smile she has. “You know. You’re very handsome.” The way she compliments him so casually, so genuinely, has him caught off guard. She’s not saying these things to get anything from him, she’s completely honest. He does the same.  
   
“You look beautiful, you know?” Her face twists into shock and he realizes that a compliment from him to her was rare. He decides to correct that. He sits up and slides her hips so that’s she straddling his waist. “I don’t tell you that enough, but you really are.” He mouths at her neck, hard enough to leave a mark but soft enough to not actually cause any pain.  
   
“That first time you stood up for me, to Rhys? You looked amazing. So strong and powerful. No one has ever stood up for me like that.” He reaches down to unbutton her pants and loosens the zipper enough that he can slide one hand in. He presses lightly to the outside of her underwear and nips at her neck again when she whimpers at his touch. “You’re competent and entirely too smart- but you’re also gorgeous.”  
   
He continues to compliment her as he slides her panties to the slide and dips one finger inside of her. The angle is awkward but both of them moan as he begins to thrust the digit slowly in and out. She shifts her body down in an attempt to get more contact and whines when it’s not enough. He senses her frustration and leans back. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you.”  
   
He gets his hand out of her uniform just long enough to flip their positions so he can lay her onto the mattress. He hardly takes his time getting her pants down and he’s about to climb on top of her when she shakes her head. “You’re entirely too dressed.” He grins at her and slips off the bed. The zipper on his clothing is already down the whole way so it takes almost no effort to slide the arms off and drop the jumpsuit to the floor, as he strips she peels her own bottoms off and lets them fall off the bed, forgotten. She’s only in her shirt as he’s left in nothing but his boxers by the time he gets his hands back on her.  
   
He straddles over one of her legs and she jumps when he slides his hands up her side and across her ribs. “Ticklish, are you?” He questions before dropping down to mouth at the skin of her hip. She goes to respond but before she can he moves her shirt up in order to wrap his lips around one of her nipples. She keens when he tugs lightly on the bud with his teeth and starts to writhe beneath him when he returns his fingers to their former position.  
   
Instead of teasing her with one finger like earlier he takes mercy on Haylen and slides two fingers into her, all the way up until she’s cupped fully in his palm. She lets out a ragged sounding breath and he notices a tremble start in her legs as he presses his thumb against her clit. He shifts to get a better angle and sucks in sharply when the motion causes his cock to bump against her thigh. His hips stutter, trying to get friction, and he has to force himself to pull back.  
   
He tosses aside his own want for relief in favor of twisting his fingers where they’re resting inside of her and he can’t help but smile when she grinds down into his hand. It isn’t long before the combination of his mouth on her breast, his fingers inside of her, and his thumb rubbing tight circles against her clit have Haylen gasping and shaking beneath him. He’s seen her come before but for some reason this time when she gasps out his name as the orgasm rackets through her body it feels like something more.  
   
She’s still trembling as he sits up and removes his fingers from her cunt in order to brings them up to his mouth and lick the taste of her off them. He’s so distracted by the action that he doesn’t even notice when she reaches out to grasp his cock through his boxers. Her jerks into her touch and shoots out his hand to brace himself against the wall.  
   
She smirks up at him and tugs lightly, encouraging him to come closer to her, and he follows the motion easily. She takes just a second to help him undress completely and finish getting her shirt the rest of the way off. He drops his head down to rest against her shoulder as she wraps a her hand around him fully and begins to stroke. He can’t help the noises he makes when she swipes a finger across the head, collecting the drops of pre-cum that have gathered there.  
   
She tightens her grip and after that it’s too easy to thrust into her hand, chasing his own release. Before he can get there, however, she releases him and he sits back. “Why’d you stop?” He asks, his voice rough with arousal. She bites her bottom lip and looks nervous. “Haylen, what’s wrong?”  
   
She focuses on some point past him, avoiding direct eye contact. “I want-” she cuts herself off and looks back at him. “-well, I want you.”  
   
He’s not dumb enough to not know what she’s talking about. In the four months that they had been together, they had never actually had sex. They most certainly had given each other a multitude of orgasms, but Deacon could never let himself go enough to be that vulnerable. Usually the idea sends him running but instead the actuality of what she’s asking for shoots pleasure down his spine. He takes a steadying breath before leaning down and nipping at her ear. “Yeah? You want me to fuck you?” She gasps at his question and reaches up to grab at his arm. “You have to say it Haylen.”  
   
“Yes, please, Deacon, I want you to fuck me.” He shudders against her and then scoots over so he can rest between her spread legs and use his arms to bracket around her head. She reaches down to help guide him to her core and then finally, blissfully, he slides into her with one smooth motion. She’s wet and lose from her earlier orgasm but that doesn’t matter to him as he starts up an easy pace. She digs her legs into his lower back and has one hand clenched tightly around his arm while the other is thrown across her face.  
   
His hips stutter as he tries to stave off his orgasm, but he knows that he’s not going to last. He reaches down to pull her arm off of her face and curls their fingers together. Then he guides her hand to the bed where he loosely grasps it before leaning down to seal their lips together. It can hardly be called a kiss with the way his motions jostle their mouths but he’s not looking for pleasure from the action, he’s trying to convey his affection.  
   
It’s not long after that when he starts to feel his finish coming, Haylen is digging her nail into him and letting out sounds of pleasure with every thrust and it all adds up to be too much. He manages to pull out of her before his orgasm jolts through his entire body and he releases over her upper stomach. As he comes down from his pleasure-high he notices that his arms are trembling from the exertion and he rolls over to lay next to her.  
   
As he regains the ability to breath evenly again the need to tell her the truth about everything begins to, once again, bubble up to the surface.  
   
“There’s some things that I really need to tell you. About me, and my past.” He feels more exposed by those few words than he feels laying next to her, spent cock softening against his belly and sticky come drying on her skin.  
   
She turns to look at him and something in his face must betray the seriousness because her relaxed demeanor changes. “Alright, let’s get cleaned up and dressed, then we can talk.”  
   
They venture outside in order to use the water purifier and clean themselves off with their dirty uniforms. Deacon is relieved to see that Haylen has packed their off duty clothes and once he’s sure he’s no longer covered in sweat and bodily fluids he slips into his white shirt and jeans. Haylen pulls on a simple sweater and khakis before leading him to a small campfire.  
   
He helps her light the fire but takes the spot across from her instead of next to her once it has started to burn. She slides over next to him anyways, presumably to stop him from forcing distance between them, real or metaphorical. She takes his hand in her own and begins to trace patterns over the back of it. Once he goes to speak he realizes that his sunglasses are still on the table next to the bed inside.  
   
“Before I say anything, you should know that I love you, too.” He starts with the hardest thing, it’s hard to tell her about his past, but it’s even more difficult to bare his true feelings.  
   
“I know. You might not say it, but you show it.” He squeezes her hand and then launches into his tale. At some point between telling her about the lynching and detailing his wife’s murder he starts to cry. She doesn’t say anything, just grips him a little tighter and offers him a small, sad smile. He can’t meet her eye the entire time he talks and he spends every second expecting her to rip her hand away from him, to yell at him and call him a monster.  
   
“I’m everything wrong with this whole fucking Commonwealth, and I don’t deserve you being okay with this. Hell, I’m not even asking. I just… well, you deserve the truth. You should know the kind of man you’re getting involved with.” When he’s finished he stares into the fire and waits for her judgment.  
   
He’s genuinely surprised when she leans in and presses a kiss to his cheek, he wonders if she can taste his tears. “You’re a good man, Deacon. You might not have been when you were younger, but I know you. I know the person that you have worked this long and this hard to become. I love the man sitting next to me.” He finally turns to her and she’s smiling at him. “I’m sorry you had to go through what you did, but I don’t hold your past against you.”  
   
He drops her hand and throws his arms around her. It’s an awkward position with one of his arms around her shoulders and the other under her arm, but all he cares about is holding her close to him. She returns his hug and they hold each other until the fire dies down.  
   
The cold from the night settles onto them soon after that and Haylen leads him back into the shack. He lays down first before Haylen lies down next to him. She curls into his chest and lays a hand across his body. He smiles at the warmth she provides. He’s drifting off when she suddenly speaks. “Oh, I almost forgot to tell you, we’re leaving tomorrow to try and track down those escaped synths and Railroad agents.”  
   
It takes all of his self control to keep his body relaxed. He’s really not allowed to be happy, is he?  
   
\---

Deacon stares at Haylen as she continues to sleep peacefully, blissfully unaware that he’s about to disappear forever. He doesn’t want to leave. Every bone in his body is screaming at him to take off his shoes and climb under the covers next to her. He can’t though. He has a responsibility to the synths and Railroad agents, he can’t let the Brotherhood get to them just because he’s in love.  
   
He brushes her hair behind her ear so he can drink in her features one last time. When he’s memorized every inch of her face he drops a holotape onto the table and slips out the door. He knows that once she listens to the tape that she’ll hate him forever, and he feels like a monster. Haylen deserves more than to be abandoned in the middle of the night by a man who stole her heart, but staying means innocent people will die, and he’s not that selfish.  
   
He takes off in the direction of the Old North Church and thinks about how Haylen will react to the contents of the holo. She might not be surprised when she hears that he’s a Railroad agent, he wasn’t very quiet about his acceptance of synths. She’ll be heartbroken when she learns that he started their relationship so that he would be accepted, but he’s not sure if she’ll believe him or not when she hears that by the end he really did love her, that he really did care about her. The idea that she might think he never felt what he feels breaks his heart all over again.  
   
It takes him a few hours to make it all the way back to HQ and by the time he’s giving PAM the code to get in the sun is peeking up over the horizon. Desdemona is surprised to see him but before she can begin to question his presence he cuts her off.  
   
“The Brotherhood is leaving today to track down the synths and agents that escaped from the attack yesterday. We need to find them first.” He turns to address Drummer. “Please tell me someone knows where they are.”  
   
The younger man nods, “All agents and synths are accounted for except one. F4-89, he fell behind during the escape and no one has seen him since.”  
   
Deacon frowns at that and thinks about the man he didn’t shoot. “Was he younger looking? Short brunette hair, dark eyes?” Drummer nods. “I saw him, Rhys almost shot him but he got away. He took off East.”  
   
Desdemona sighs at that information. “Everyone else went West to the new safehouse, Agusta’s replacement. We’ve been looking for him in the complete wrong area.” She turns to Carrington. “We need to work out a new search plan.”  
   
“We don’t have the resources right now,” the doctor argues, “we’re too short staffed with agents and by the time we regroup the Brotherhood might locate him first.”  
   
“I’ll go,” all eyes turn to Deacon and he shrugs, “I move faster on my own and I know the way the Brotherhood operates. I’ve been undercover with them for a while now.”  
   
“You could have stayed with them if you had just sent us a dead-drop.” Carrington complains.  
   
Deacon grits his teeth and and closes his eyes. “If I had done that there’s no telling how long it would have taken you all to get it and then start looking in the right area,” he looks over at Desdemona, “my cover is blown, I can’t go back. I’ll head back to where I last saw F4 and work from there, agreed?”  
   
She nods her acceptance as Carrington continues to berate him. He ignores the doctor in favor of leaving the church. No need to get into a pissing match when there was a life on the line.  
   
It takes him less than an hour to make it to Ticon and he’s glad to see that there aren’t any Brotherhood Soldiers in the area. In less time than it takes to reload a fatman he’s already picked up the trail and is on the move. Over the course of the day he track F4 and his progress, it leads him north east and precariously close to the Cambridge Police Station before dipping slightly to the south. The sun is dangerously low in the sky when he makes it to Fiddler's Green Trailer Estates and he’s looking for a place to rest when the familiar noises of a Vertibird sound from behind him.  
   
He ducks into one of the only trailers that has a lock and curses when the vertibird lands less than 200 feet from his hiding spot. He peers out the window and nearly hurls when he sees Paladin Danse, Knight Rhys, and Scribe Haylen step into the neighborhood. His luck gets even worse when the Paladin orders them to start clearing trailers.  
   
“The synth was last spotted heading in this direction. Clear the trailers and set up camp. We find it in the morning.” He wishes that he could say he watches them all, looking for clues to what they know, but the only person he looks at is Haylen.  
   
Her eyes are hollow and her posture is slumped, like she just wants to collapse. She walks slowly as if she doesn’t care enough to follow Danse’s orders. She doesn’t look like herself. Deacon knows that he’s the reason she no longer seems happy and full of life and he wonders what she told the rest of the squad about his disappearance.  
   
He jerks his gaze away when the door to his hiding spot is jostled. Rhys is standing outside attempting to gain entry, but Deacon knows he won’t get in. The man can’t hack a terminal or pick a lock to save his life, so as long as they don’t find a key he’s safe. The Knight grumbles in frustration but gives up on the door after a minute and Deacon’s pounding heart begins to calm.  
   
When he looks back out the window Haylen is gone.  
   
He waits for hours for the team to finish clearing, set up camp, and head to bed. They decide that only one guard is necessary for the night and they break up the evening into three hour shifts. First Danse, then Haylen, then Rhys. He slips out of the trailer during Haylen’s shift and prays to god that she doesn’t see him. By the time he reaches the tree line, he hasn’t been shot at and he hasn’t heard shouting so he knows he’s in the clear.  
   
It’s hard to follow F4’s progress with no light but he’s been a tracker and a spy for long enough that it only presents a slight challenge. He has no idea what time it is when his trail abruptly stops at the Fort Hagen filling station. He sees that the defenses above Fort Hagen itself are destroyed so he investigates the building and notices an underground car park.  
   
He walks inside slowly, pistol at the low ready, and searches for any sign of the lost synth. “Z4? Z4 are you in here?” He keeps his voice low as he talks, not wanting to scare the man if he’s hiding. It’s nearly impossible to see in the darkness that surrounds him and he stumbles and nearly falls when his foot catches the edge of something sturdy but soft. He flips open his lighter and holds it down to study the item and sucks in a sharp breath when he sees the face of the man he’s been searching for.  
   
He notices the bite and claw marks just before a loud growl sounds behind him and a weight throws itself into his back. He’s flung to the ground and his gun goes sliding across the floor, out of his reach. Just before he can bust his face on the concrete he manages to get his arm under himself.  
   
He uses the momentum of the fall to roll over onto his back and strike out at the feral. He’s nearly blind but his fist catches the creature on the side of the head and rattles it long enough that he can slide away. He runs his fingers over the ground, looking for his pistol, and is just about to grab it when the feral gets its mouth onto his arm and bites down.  
   
He cries out in pain and lifts the weapon up to bash the ghoul across the forehead. The creature releases his arm and pulls back enough that he can get his gun up. As soon as he’s sure its pressed to the feral’s temple he pulls the trigger twice. He lets out a sigh of relief when it drops to the ground and doesn’t move again. It’s dead silent except for his heavy panting as he tries to settle his breathing. With a grunt he pushes himself off the floor and slowly makes his way to the exit.  
   
The closer he gets to the outside the more he can see and just before he gets to freedom he notices a figure off to the side. He goes to raise his weapon but a familiar voice stops him.  
   
“Don’t move.” Haylen’s voice is threatening and he listens. She’s got her laser pistol trained right at him and he knows how good of a shot she is. She steps out of the shadows and the light of the moon illuminates her face, she looks equal parts pissed and sad.  
   
“Haylen-”  
   
“Don’t fucking talk.” He thinks it might be the first time he’s ever heard her curse. “I trusted you, Deacon. I loved you. And it was all a ploy? To get in good with the Brotherhood? To stalk Nora?” Her voice starts off at a tremble but gains confidence as she speaks. “It was one thing when I thought you had only betrayed the Brotherhood. But then to find out you never really loved me- that it was all fake?” She’s moved closer to him and he can see the tears in her eyes.  
   
“It wasn’t fake.”  
   
Her shoulders tense at his words. “I told you not to speak.”  
   
“Then shoot me, but I won’t let you think it was all fake.” Her breathing is less than steady but she doesn’t pull the trigger so he continues to talk. “Yes, at first I just needed an in, a cover. But Haylen by the end I really did- do, love you.” She never stopped moving towards him as he spoke and she’s so close. “But I had to leave, I couldn’t let them kill my friends, or the synths.”  
   
“Would you have ever told me?” The question catches him off guard and he must look confused because she clarifies, but not before pressing her gun right up to his ribs. “If we had never been sent to find those synths would you have told me about your Railroad affiliation or your plans to infiltrate the Brotherhood?”  
   
He figures that there’s no reason to lie. “I’d like to think that I would have, but I don’t know.” Her lip trembles as he speaks. “I never meant to hurt you.”  
   
“Your intentions don’t mean anything. You broke my heart.”  
   
The gun shoved into his ribs burns like hot coals and the wound on his arm from the feral ghoul stings enough for him to flinch, but nothing hurts more than the betrayal he can read in her blue eyes.  
   
“I swear to you, Haylen. I never meant for it to come to this.” Deacon’s words are pleading. For a second he thinks that maybe his desperation has gotten through to her. Instead he watches the hurt switch to anger. Her hand is pressed so tightly against him that he feels the moment when her finger slides down to pull the trigger. He registers the sound of gunfire and then he’s plunged into darkness.  
   
\- - -

The echoing of the gun going off reverberates in Haylen’s ears as Deacon drops to the floor. He doesn’t bleed and she knows that the laser fire vaporized his heart. It takes her a moment to register a sound and another to realize that it’s her own choked sobs. She drops to her knees next to him and grips his shirt in her hands as the realization of what she’s done washes over her. “No, no, wait,” She begins to mutter. “I didn’t mean to- I don’t-”  
   
Tears slip off her cheeks and soak into the material, turning the white translucent. She tightens her grip on his shirt and begins to tug at the cotton. “Deacon, I’m sorry, I made a mistake.” Her sobs pick up and she moves to cup his face in her hands. “Come back, please, I’m sorry. I forgive you. I forgive you.” She slides the sunglasses off his face, hoping that maybe he’ll open his eyes. When he still doesn’t move she crashes their lips together. Her action doesn’t magically bring him back and she cries harder as she pulls back. “Please, I love you.” In a last ditch effort to bring him back she jabs a stimpack into him. She knows it won’t work, but she’s still destroyed when his chest remains motionless.  
   
Eventually her sobs fade into gentle hiccups and she moves to sit next to his body.  She stays there for hours until Paladin Danse finds her, he doesn’t ask what happened and she doesn’t say.  
   
Three weeks later Haylen stands in the center of the Old North Church surrounded by the bodies of a dozen Railroad agents. Nora stands next to her and talks idly. “They tried to recruit me once, I believed in their cause but I loved Danse more than I cared about those synths.” She looks over at Haylen. “I’m sorry about Deacon, I know this can’t be easy, are you okay?”  
   
Haylen stares forward and doesn’t meet her eye. “What’s done is done. I don’t need your pity.”  
   
Haylen doesn’t startle when Nora rests her hand on her shoulder and asks, "what will you do now?"  
   
"Nothing. I think I'm done with the Commonwealth, I just want to go back to DC, I don’t even know if I’ll stay in the Brotherhood, maybe I’ll just become a traveling doctor."  
   
"Are you sure that's what you want? The Brotherhood could really use you," Nora says, “you shouldn't throw your life away. Deacon wouldn't want you to-"  
   
Haylen cuts her off with a slap to the face. “What the fuck would you know about what he would want? This wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for you, you know? He only joined us to recruit you! He’s dead and it’s all your fault.” She doesn’t care that her screams attract the Soldiers milling about, she simply turns on her heel and storms off.  
   
Haylen leaves the Commonwealth and never comes back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is the angsty ending, if that's not your cup of tea check out chapter two which is a lot less sad alternate ending.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my alternate happy ending for those readers who are like me and want to end on a fluffy note, enjoy!

The echoing of the gun going off reverberates in Haylen’s ears as Deacon drops to the floor. His screams cut through the ringing and she falls down to her knees next to him. “I don’t understand. I didn’t shoot you.” She’s frantically scrambling for a stimpack when Rhys steps into the light. She notices his presence and lifts her gun to aim at him.  
   
“Now, now, Haylen. Don’t do something you’ll regret.” His gun is still trained on Deacon. “I’m a much faster and better shot than you. He’ll be dead before you can even think to pull that trigger.” She knows he’s right and lowers the weapon.  
   
He steps closer towards her and the sneer he wears sends fear down her back. Deacon is sucking in shallow breaths in an attempt to fight back the pain of a laser burn and she knows that if she doesn’t help him soon he’ll go into shock and die.  
   
“Just let me help him and I’ll do whatever you want.” She barters, trying to placate him.  
   
“Well what I want is for him to die, so that doesn’t really work for me.” She glances down at Deacon who has gone pale and started to tremble. Her eyes dart to her pack that has the med-kit. Rhys side steps until he’s between the exit and the couple. “You know, I always thought you were pathetic. Following me around like a little lost puppy. It wasn’t until you got with this asshole that you grew a backbone.” He accentuates his words with a kick to Deacon’s ribs. He shouts in pain but then falls silent.  
   
“Stop it Rhys. If you kill him I’ll report you. You’ll lose everything.” He laughs at that and stalks forward. He leans down to grip her chin in his hands.  
   
“You think they’ll believe you? It would be too easy for me to tell them that you’re working with the Railroad. That you two attacked me.” He grins down at her. “That it was self-defense.” His eyes roam over her body and she shudders. “You could walk out of here uninjured, if you agree to be mine.”  
   
She feels disgust at his words and has to swallow the bile that rises. “I’d rather die than date you.”  
   
He shakes his head and lets out a dirty laugh. “I don’t want to date you, but I’d gladly fuck you.”  
   
“That’s even worse.” His face contorts into anger and he bares his teeth at her. The hand on her chin slides down to grab her throat and his grip on his gun tightens. Her hands reach up to pry at his fingers and he laughs at her attempts. Just when she starts to go dizzy from lack of oxygen Rhys rips back from her with a scream.  
   
She collapses to the floor and sucks in deep breathes and when her vision clears she looks up. Rhys is lying on his back with a knife stuck in the side of his thigh and Deacon is reaching for her bag. She ignores Rhys’ cry for help and crawls over to retrieve a stimpack. She sinks the needle into Deacon’s shoulder and feels relief as his color begins to return.  
   
“You bastard! You fucking stabbed me.” Her and Rhys’ eyes both lock on his dropped pistol at the same time. Haylen launches herself forward and manages to get to the gun first. She’s spinning around to aim at Rhys when his hand closes around her ankle and yanks. She slams to the ground but kicks back at him. She catches him in the face and he growls out at her. “You fucking cunt I should-”  
   
Before he can finish his sentence his head explodes, sending blood and viscera over her. She wipes at her face to clear the fluids from her eyes and when she opens them she’s relieved to see Deacon holding her pistol. As soon as he sees that she’s okay he drops the weapon and rushes over to her. She flings her arm over him and buries her face in his shoulder.  
   
“It’s okay, Haylen, he can’t hurt you.” They’re both shaking from a mixture of adrenaline, fear, and relief.  
   
“Don’t leave me again, please.” She whispers against his skin.  
   
“Never.”  
   
A month later they stand, hand-in-hand, on the most western beach of the Commonwealth and watch the flames as they shoot into the sky from the destroyed Prydwen. Haylen reflects on the moments that led her to where she is now and realizes that she wouldn’t give it up for anything.  
   
As the sun dips below the horizon Deacon turns to her. “So, Charmer, are you ready to take on the Institute?” She leans into his side and watches the sky as it fades from blue to orange to purple.  
   
“As long as you’re by my side, I’m ready for anything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hoped that you guys enjoyed this story, and if you really enjoyed it please check out some of my other works or feel free to leave a kudo, a comment, or come say hi on Tumblr at [Randomwordsandstormydays](randomwordsandstormydays.tumblr.com).
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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